Today was my first day in the little god room that tells the people of Erinsborough what to do. No-one else blogs about their experiences in the TV office, and tempted as I am I’m not going to be the first. There’s better forms of suicide.
In truth, I’m still not entirely sure what happened.
It started well. I got there early, after catching the last quarter of the Seahawks win over the Rams at a Swan St Kinkos. I even got my palpitations under control.
It ended badly, running out of a meeting at 5:20pm and missing my train home. Running out of a meeting meant I looked like an unprofessional idiot. Missing my train meant that my poor mother had to drive for an hour to pick me up. The worst of both worlds. Done and done.
In between these extremes there was a bunch of stuff, some of it real, much of it imagined.
I’m very tired and missing a key adjective – the one that’d let you know how I feel. I’ll keep looking. I might even find it tomorrow.
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